


Prepared to Compromise

by Osidiano



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Amputee Bucky Barnes, Animated GIFs, Bartender Thor, Explicit Language, M/M, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, Meet-Cute, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2018-08-19 03:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8187697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osidiano/pseuds/Osidiano
Summary: Sambucky AU Meet-Cute based on a line from a Bill Bryson novel and using AoU gifs because I was toying with mixed media fics at the time. Sadly, not something I did for SamBucky Week or Samtember (I fail at deadlines). Now with a fic-only option for folks who don't want to deal with embedded images and gifs. James goes to a swanky party and fails at being social. Natasha and the bartender encourage him to make a move before Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome raises his standards.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The line from the novel is **bolded.** I made none of these gifs or screencaps. I found them all on Tumblr or using Google. Credit (to the best of my knowledge) goes to: [the mcu wiki](http://marvelcinematicuniverse.wikia.com/), [elcapitan-rogers](http://elcapitan-rogers.tumblr.com/), [james-nat](http://james-nat.tumblr.com/), [drunkbroadway](http://drunkbroadway.tumblr.com/), imaginesforlifetime, [dairxoxo](http://dairxoxo.tumblr.com/), [mcavoys](http://forassgard.tumblr.com/>forassgard</a>,%20<a%20href=), and [nathaliaalianova](http://nathaliaalianova.tumblr.com/). If you know who made the others, please let me know so I can give credit and swap out the uncredited ones in the original post.

  
  


James had been people watching since he showed up, sipping on the same drink that had been set in front of him an hour ago. From his usual stool at the bar, he had a good view on the different groups scattered around the room: the veterans retelling the same tired war stories they told every night; the overpaid, undervalued business suits out fueling their alcoholism;

  
the guys desperately pretending they were still in college; and in the sitting area to the right of the bar, his friend Natasha idly making conversation with a guy who looked like he was painfully aware that she was out of his league by at least a mile, probably two. 

  
Natasha broke off from her conversation to get another beer, sidling up to the bar and nudging James gently with one shoulder. She was on his left, and it spoke volumes about the depth of their friendship that he didn’t smash her face into the bartop when she touched his torso, the move uninterrupted thanks to his empty sleeve. James just scowled, and muttered lowly into his drink, “You think I should socialize, don’t you?” 

  


She deposited her empty beer bottle and motioned to the bartender for two more drinks, despite the fact that James wasn’t done with his first. “You know,” she said in that obnoxiously conversational tone she sometimes used when he was being stubborn, “I can tell that you’ve been eyeing the same guy this whole time.”

And he had. James knew that his gaze kept drifting back to the nearby billiards table and the two good-looking fellas who were taking turns destroying one another and griping about the troubles in their lives, it sounded like. At her comment, his eyes instinctively flicked back over to them.

  
He was in no position to deny it. James wasn’t exactly the most subtle person on the planet anymore, but being called out on it still got him shifting with embarrassment in his seat.

“Yeah?” One of the guys at the pool table – Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome – frowned down at the spread before lining up to take the shot, and James took a moment to appreciate the view as he bent over the table. 

  
**“You know what I look for in a partner these days, Steve? A heartbeat and a full set of limbs**.” 

  
The blond man next to him – Steve, apparently – laughed and nodded sympathetically as they watched the 9-ball sink into a side pocket. James felt his face heat up in a flush as Natasha and the bartender tuned into the conversation with sudden interest. 

  
**"And that's just my starting point, man,"** Handsome went on, seemingly oblivious to their audience. He moved out of the way and gave Steve a meaningful look as he said, with complete earnest, **"I'm _prepared to compromise on the limbs."_**

  
  


  
"Sounds a bit like an invitation," the bartender murmured, easing the glass out of James's hand and pouring him another.

“You should go get his number before he raises his standards,” Natasha suggested helpfully. Her lips were curved in a pretty, titillating smile. The bartender nodded.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you, oh my god.” James wished the floor would open under him and swallow him whole. It did not. Fuck his life. He snatched up the drink and gulped it down. James squinted at her over the rim of his glass. “You have something to do with this, Romanov?”

  


James muttered a curse to himself and got up to his feet. He’d figure out what to say on his way over. Natasha looked back to the bartender and cocked a perfectly manicured brow at him.

“But I bet you did,” she said once James was occupied with introductions over at the billiards table.

The bartender neither confirmed nor denied the accusation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now with a fic-only option for folks who don't want to deal with embedded images and gifs.

James had been people watching since he showed up, sipping on the same drink that had been set in front of him an hour ago. From his usual stool at the bar, he had a good view on the different groups scattered around the room: the veterans retelling the same tired war stories they told every night; the overpaid, undervalued business suits out fueling their alcoholism; the guys desperately pretending they were still in college; and in the sitting area to the right of the bar, his friend Natasha idly making conversation with a guy who looked like he was painfully aware that she was out of his league by at least a mile, probably two.

Natasha broke off from her conversation to get another beer, sidling up to the bar and nudging James gently with one shoulder. She was on his left, and it spoke volumes about the depth of their friendship that he didn’t smash her face into the bartop when she touched his torso, the move uninterrupted thanks to his empty sleeve. James just scowled, and muttered lowly into his drink, “You think I should socialize, don’t you?”

"Oh, no, no,” Natasha replied, letting the accusation roll off her like it was nothing. “That's not a question I need to answer.”

She deposited her empty beer bottle and motioned to the bartender for two more drinks, despite the fact that James wasn’t done with his first. “You know,” she began in that obnoxiously conversational tone she sometimes used when he was being stubborn, “I can tell that you’ve been eyeing the same guy this whole time.”

And he had. James knew that his gaze kept drifting back to the nearby billiards table and the two good-looking fellas who were taking turns destroying one another and griping about the troubles in their lives, it sounded like. At her comment, his eyes instinctively flicked back over to where one of the men was huffing, shaking his head at the other’s plight.

He was in no position to deny it. James wasn’t exactly the most subtle person on the planet anymore, but being called out on it still got him shifting with embarrassment in his seat.

One of the guys at the pool table – Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome – frowned down at the spread before lining up to take the shot, and James took a moment to appreciate the view as he bent over the table.

**“You know what I look for in a partner these days, Steve? A heartbeat and a full set of limbs.”** He finished the statement with a loud, cheering, 'Woo hoooo!' as the billiards clacked into one another on the felt top.

The blond man next to him – Steve, apparently – laughed and nodded sympathetically as they watched the 9-ball sink into the targeted side pocket. James felt his face heat up in a flush as Natasha and the bartender tuned into the conversation with sudden interest.

**"And that's just my starting point, man,"** Handsome went on, seemingly oblivious to their audience. He moved out of the way and gave Steve a meaningful look as he said, with complete earnest, **"I'm _prepared to compromise on the limbs_."**

The bartender reached for James's glass and gave him A Look.

"Sounds a bit like an invitation," the bartender murmured, easing the glass out of James's hand and pouring him another.

“You should go get his number before he raises his standards,” Natasha suggested helpfully. Her lips were curved in a pretty, titillating smile. The bartender nodded.

“Shut the fuck up, both of you, oh my god.” James wished the floor would open under him and swallow him whole. It did not. Fuck his life. He snatched up the drink and gulped it down. James squinted at her over the rim of his glass. “You have something to do with this, Romanov?”

“Not a damn thing,” Natasha demurred. She was fighting a provocative smugness as she fluttered her eyelashes and looked up at him coyly from under them. The expression was utterly wasted on him.

James muttered a curse to himself and got up to his feet. He’d figure out what to say on his way over. Natasha looked back to the bartender and cocked a perfectly manicured brow at him.

“But I bet you did,” she said once James was occupied with introductions over at the billiards table.

The bartender neither confirmed nor denied the accusation. Thor just took a drink and shrugged noncommittally.


End file.
